


Curvature

by mayachain



Category: Captive Prince - C. S. Pacat
Genre: Alternate Ending, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Euphemisms, Future Fic, Just Deserts, M/M, Magical Realism, Storytelling
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-01
Updated: 2017-05-01
Packaged: 2018-10-26 17:33:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,001
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10791387
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mayachain/pseuds/mayachain
Summary: My Prince, let me tell you the story of the time when your father the Kingnotdrawing his sword was an act of such importance that it saved two kingdoms.





	Curvature

My Prince, let me tell you the story of the time when your father the King _not_ drawing his sword was an act of such importance that it saved two kingdoms. No, it’s true.

That’s not to say that he didn’t want to draw it! You know his temper, you would be right not to believe otherwise.

It was when he and Laurent had met with the Regent at the Kingsmeet: Your father had learned how truly dreadful a regent the Regent had been to Laurent. His hand had flown to his hilt; despite his speed on the battlefield, Laurent would not have been fast enough to restrain him. But Damianos had heard the approach of several priests and their sentries despite the Regent’s words that were ringing in his ears, and so he made himself still his hand, swallow down the horrors that had just been revealed to him. He reached for something to say, anything -

“I, Damianos of Akielos, demand the trial of the King’s Arch,” he addressed the priests as they came upon them.

Remember those words, my Prince, for they will serve you well should you ever need them. Can you imagine them ringing off the walls at the Kingsmeet? Remember them.

One of the priests was eyeing the hand Damianos had on his sword suspiciously, frowning mightily even as your father made himself let go. “The trial of the King’s Arch, for you three who have come before us?” the High Priest asked. He, too, glanced at the sword so that your father knew his transgression had not gone unseen.

“Myself, and these two Veretians,” Damianos said firmly. He looked at the holy men, at their sentries, and became surer by the second that he had never met them, nor they him – they would know him only by reputation and whatever lies had been told to them by the Regent. Therefore he vowed: “I will even go first,” because he _would_ have their respect, and, more importantly, he needed the Regent to agree.

He could not let Laurent sacrifice himself, even for _your_ sake, my Prince. – You’re right, you were safe where you were in any case as long as the Regent had not finished his business.

I’ve often heard your father say how he wished he would have thought of the trial before. He and Laurent could have planned for dealing with the priests all through their way there! The Regent would never have had time to spill Laurent’s secrets if your father had only –

No, my Prince, I don’t know what they are. Those secrets are Laurent’s.

On with the story!

“The ‘Arch’ is your holy artifact,” Laurent stated in that way he has that might or might not mask a question. “Will it work for the Regent and myself, considering that neither of us is Akielan?” His voice was steady, his stance was steady, and I believe your father was suppressing a sigh of relief at the steadfast support of his play. 

A play that had not been anywhere in Laurent’s plan, and you know how Laurent likes his plans! But from the man’s ‘dignified sputtering’, as Laurent put it to me later, it had not been anywhere in the Regent’s plan, either. Your father knew better, finally, than to underestimate Laurent’s uncle – the length and deprivation the man would go to had been made all too clear – but Damianos held hope that the Veretian wouldn’t grasp fully what the proposed trial entailed.

“Foreign parties have traveled here to resolve their domestic succession disputes before,” said the junior priest. My Prince had better believe that his elder counterpart still refused to take his eyes off Damianos’ sword hand. “It will work as long as you do not try and claim yourself King of Akielos – or Damianos himself King of Vere,” he sniffed.

Yes, I regret to tell you that that particular priest still dwells there.

 _He’s convinced Laurent will lose,_ your father thought, bristling with indignation just as you are, but it was good, _good_ that even holy men could be prejudiced, that half the sentries clearly shared his belief, for it played right into the Regent’s self-importance.

“Then let us see the Arch,” the Regent said, sounding for all the world as if this had been his plan all along.

It couldn’t have been, though, you say? I am but a lowly storyteller, my Prince. Could it?

You’ve been at the Kingsmeet, you know the way. Let’s resume our story as…

The King’s Arch was somehow smaller than Damianos remembered, but it was nevertheless an imposing sight. You’ve seen it, my Prince? It is old, older than any Veretian ruins, possibly the oldest structure in all of Akielos. I am told that it disturbed your father greatly to see the exact same barely-there widening of the eyes on the Regent and Laurent.

Oh, I see you have it too! 

Your father loves you.

“It is fortunate that you have met in this sacred place, where you can without bloodshed resolve who among you is fit to be a king and who is not,” the High Priest intoned. You snort, my Prince? I believe your father, too, felt some irritation, but Damianos knew the words were ceremonial.

“A true king has nothing to fear,” proclaimed the snide priest. Yes, he might well have put his support behind your Uncle Kastor had he been there, for all that priests are supposed to be neutral in such matters. Damianos _hadn’t_ drawn his sword, so you might well ask what more did the man want from him? 

Damianos bit back a response because – can you guess why? Yes, very good. At the end of the day your father _would_ have the man’s respect. He turned instead to the two Veretians. “As His Holiness says. As king, with the High Priest’s permission – ”

\- the old man gave him a solemn nod –

“ – all I have to do is this – “

– and in full view of nine sentries, three priests, and two Veretians, he stepped underneath the Arch.

Instantly, the Arch lit up in Akielon colours. What colours are those? Well done. Damianos winced as the ancient mechanism zapped him – while at the Kingsmeet he should not even have _considered_ drawing his sword, and well he now knew it! – but a moment later Laurent and the Regent saw him standing on the other side, unharmed.

The Regent stared in what your father chose to believe was dismay, Laurent in what he dared name as hope, and the priests, even the one who would not stop scowling, bowed to him. 

“The Arch recognizes King Damianos of Akielos,” they confirmed as one.

Yes, that neatly destroyed the scowling priest’s hopes for Kastor.

“Let my nephew try,” the Regent said contemptuously. Laurent blanched, much as he would have liked not to, but he did not wait for a zealous sentry to prod him. No, he met your father's eyes as he walked forward, a bit warily but overall confidently.

Yes, I believe that face is a good approximation, my Prince.

The instant he was under the Arch Laurent was brought to his knees, harsh lights flashing about him, painful currents flowing through his body and very nearly making him scream.

Have you ever heard Laurent scream?

It seemed like an eternity before he fell forward and out of the archway at your father’s feet. Damianos’ legs were unforgivingly stiff, and when Laurent looked up Damianos’ whole posture was the same. He did nothing at all to help Laurent up. The newly confirmed true king of Akielos stood frozen as the High Priest told the Regent: “It appears that the Prince of Vere has been rejected.”

Oh, it’s true. It hurt every bit as much as you’re imagining, too.

Patience, my Prince! But be assured that the only reason Damianos appeared so heartless was that your father knew he could not right then extend so much as a hand to Laurent. 

Ah, you see! Living among Veretians had at last taught him something.

On the other side of the Arch, the Regent was perhaps a tiny bit surprised at Laurent’s fate, but witnessing the failure only bolstered the belief he always must have held that he – and not his brother and not Auguste and certainly not this nuisance of a nephew – deserved the Veretian throne. A satisfied expression on his face – no, that’s how your father looked afterwards – a satisfied expression on his face, he walked through.

Lightning rained down on him. Within seconds he was screeching, trying to escape, but he was caught underneath the Arch with no way out. Laurent, shocked, still on the ground, watched him writhe, watched him _scream_ , watched him – die.

“The Regent of Vere is proven unworthy,” the High Priest declared.

 _Now_ your father hunched down to help me up from the stone floor. 

…

Laurent was still dazed from the lightning that had hit him, and he could barely focus as the junior priest told him: “We of the Kingsmeet advise you to have your council appoint a new – ”

“Wait,” interrupted the wretched priest who had been so convinced that the Regent, who was after all the brother of a king and had, moreover, reigned in Vere for the past six years, would emerge from the Arch unharmed. “If the Regent’s claim was false, why was Prince Laurent rejected?”

Can you guess the answer, my Prince? No?

Damianos made no effort to hide his grin as the High Priest replied: “The Crown Prince of Vere is not yet twenty-one.”

I agree.

Oh, yes.

Most assuredly.

I am told that later, as they made their way back to Jord and Nikandros, a sentry and the junior priest trailing along as witnesses, Laurent accused your father thus: “You knew this would happen. You knew I would be rejected.”

“Yes,” Damianos confessed. “I’m sorry it hurt.” As he ought to be. “Only an actual king can pass the Arch without punishment. I knew it because I was punished like you were once, when my father was alive and I was the crown prince.”

Yes, this means that if you try it, you will also be hurt. I advise against it.

“You knew my failure would make my uncle step through the archway when he might otherwise have found a way to refuse,” Laurent said. His voice was not accusatory at all anymore – instead it was a more wondering tone, almost admiring. 

When your father does something worthy of admiration, he deserves to be told.

Yes, even if it should so happen to occur every day.

“I did,” Damianos said, “and I would be sorry to have killed yet another of your relatives – “ and Laurent did not say that your father’s act made up for the death blow dealt to Auguste six years ago – fourteen years, now – even though it certainly helped – “but now you won’t ever have to worry about him again, he cannot hurt your kingdom or mine any more, we can rescue the child who may or may not be my son without worrying about him –”

No, he didn’t know for certain then, but you have your grandmother’s ears, as you well know.

“– and then we take care of Kastor –“

You’re right, that was why the High Priest sent the witnesses along.

“– and _then_ we can take the months remaining until your ascension planning –“

...You know Laurent well, my Prince.

“– how to join our kingdoms,” Laurent interrupted, still wonderingly, and kissed him.

There.

Now you know how important it can be to stay your sword hand. Or your dagger hand. Your knife hand. Or your fist.

No, knowing how to fight is important, too.

Yes, I know you’re shaping up to be an excellent warrior indeed.

Well, it’s possible that tomorrow Laurent will have returned and then you can show him.

But if Exalted wishes, this lowly storyteller can find you before bedtime and enthrall you with another adventure and the value of sound decisions.

Run along now, my Prince!

 

.

**Author's Note:**

> Loosely inspired by a Babylon 5 episode ("Moments of Transition").


End file.
